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It was the only time I ever shared her bed, regardless of the fact she kicked me out immediately after, not wanting any of her staff to find out what we’d done.
Now as I check her bedroom, all I can think about is the fact that Tristan gets to share this space with her. Has made love to her in this very bed.
Not wanting to be here any longer than necessary, I run through the rest of my checks as quickly as possible, leaving the office for last.
And for good reason.
After all, it was where Esme and I usually met.
When I open the double doors and step inside, it’s like no time at all has passed, the familiar scent of fresh linen and lavender invading my senses. I can almost see the ghost of Esme sauntering up to me, wrapping her arms around me and kissing me, murmuring that she’s not wearing any knickers.
The things we did in this room, the pleasure and love I felt, it’s too much to bear.
Satisfied there’s nothing suspicious in her apartment, I make my way back to the living room, finding Esme staring into space as Archie briefs her butler about the necessary changes.
When I approach her, she snaps out of her daze. “You’re all clear,” I tell her.
“Thank you.”
“Just doing my job.”
“I don’t mean checking my apartment for any potential threats.” She steps toward me, dropping her voice to little more than a whisper. “I’m talking about being here for me. It’s nice to be able to talk to someone who understands.”
“You can always talk to me.” I meet her eyes, my expression softening. “Don’t try to go through it alone. If things get bad, pick up the phone, no matter the hour. Okay?”
I may regret this decision later, but the only thing that helped me in my darkest moments was being able to talk to someone who understood. I want to give Esme the same thing.
“Thank you.”
“If you’d like,” I begin, but am interrupted when heavy footfalls sound from the foyer.
We all glance toward the doorway just as Tristan Hughes appears.
His panicked gaze scans the room, his worry turning to relief the instant his eyes land on Esme.
“Tristan?” She increases her distance from me. “What are you…”
He rushes toward her and draws her into his embrace before she can finish her question. “A madman pulls a gun on you and you don’t think I’d drop everything to be with you?” He cups her cheeks, his grip on her tight. “My god, Esme. I was fucking worried.”
I look to the floor as I take measured breaths, willing myself to stay calm.
“I’m fine,” she assures him as she pushes out of his hold, floating her gaze toward mine. “Captain Lawson was hurt worse than me.”
Tristan looks my way, as if noticing me for the first time. He strides toward me and places his hand on my arm and squeezes.
Where I was shot.
I wince, backing away.
“Sorry. Forgot you were shot.”
I push out an aggravated laugh, rubbing my bicep. “That makes one of us.”
“Right. Well, thanks for taking care of my girl. Risking your life for her.”
“No thanks required,” I tell him. “It’s my job.”
“I know. I just…” He pulls his lips together, shaking his head. “If you didn’t respond as quickly…” He squeezes his eyes shut.
